


a weary exile

by kyouyaed



Series: lay that pistol down, babe [5]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Fallout 4 AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 07:03:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9224213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyouyaed/pseuds/kyouyaed
Summary: **“The Enclave doesn't have such a good reputation anymore, does it, Mr. Horne?” Sam asked.In a surprisingly controlled voice, Horne said, “That's behind me now.”Jack Horne is many things, but he isn't exactly what Goodnight was expecting him to be like.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is unedited, and i will edit when i can. please enjoy!

Goodnight knelt behind a fallen tree, his sniper rifle balanced on the log itself. He stared carefully down the scope, lips pressed tightly together as he tracked his target. Beside him, Sam was similarly crouched with his own modded sniper rifle. Goodnight shifted and adjusted his rifle.

“Ready?” Sam murmured, shoulders tense. Goodnight swallowed and flipped the safety off on his gun. His finger settled on the trigger and he let out a slow exhale.

“Yep,” he said, and both he and Sam pulled their triggers. An earth shaking roar rang out and Goodnight's rifle veered off to the side. Sam lost his balance and toppled forward over the log, sending his own rifle spiraling off the hill they were tactically mounted on. To his credit, Sam hardly seemed phased by the loss of the rifle and he was quick to pull out his preferred and favored pistol, righting himself. Goodnight watched Sam swing himself over the log and they exchanged brief nods before Sam slid down the hill after his rifle. Goodnight was quick to readjust his own rifle and he quickly found their target under attack.

The Deathclaw reared its head back and let out another trembling roar that Goodnight was braced for this time, only shaking a little. A black and white blur brushed dangerously close to the creature and it roared a painful roar, swiping at and missing the blur that darted away. Goodnight couldn't help but grin; Billy against a Deathclaw was a sight to see. The synth was fearless, taking on almost any creature the Wasteland threw at them. Goodnight adjusted his gun again, taking careful aim for the Deathclaw's head that whipped around wildly, no doubt trying to pinpoint the 4 people closer to it than Goodnight was that were shooting at it with pistols.

One of the others nailed a well placed shot to the Deathclaw's belly and it yowled, head tilting and stilling somewhat with the motion. Goodnight lined up his gun and pulled the trigger. The bullet shot true and lodged itself in the Deathclaw's jaw, which only seemed to make it angrier. A loud laugh that Goodnight was still adjusting to echoed around them and Joshua Faraday sprinted passed the Deathclaw. The monster's waving hand missed Faraday by inches and Goodnight let out a surprised scoff that quickly turned into an alarmed shout when the Deathclaw was engulfed in flames.

“What the _fuck_?!” shouted Vasquez, and Goodnight had to agree.

“We agreed, no Molotovs!” Faraday shrieked. “Coulda lit me on fire, dammit! Billy, was that you?”

“Wasn't him!” Sam called back. “Wasn't me, neither.” Goodnight was quick to lock Sam in his sights and he frowned in confusion. Sam and Billy were crouched together behind a particularly large boulder, but Sam's head was poking out, gaze looking in a different direction from the Deathclaw. Goodnight trailed his gun and scope in the direction Sam was looking. At first, Goodnight saw nothing out of the ordinary. Then, in a sudden movement, a shock of white flickered and the Deathclaw roared again as flames surrounded and engulfed it.

“Fall back!” Goodnight shouted, attempting to be heard over the pain filled roars coming from their initial target. “Converge on me!” He whirled his gun back to the Deathclaw that, though it was nearly cooked alive, seemed livid. Goodnight took careful aim, holding his breath to keep his gun steady. He had to time this just right. The Deathclaw whipped its head back and forth, its panting audible even to Goodnight, as high and far away from the creature as he was. It looked at him for a few seconds when one of the others cursed as they climbed up the hill, but for Goodnight that's all it took. His finger on the trigger was swift and the bullet made a deadly home through the Deathclaw's eye and in its skull.

Goodnight was quick to avert his gaze, not wanting to see the Deathclaw's last moments of life. Instead, he flipped the safety on his gun and slung the strap easily diagonally over his torso.

“Goody, gimme a hand,” Faraday groused, and Goodnight peered over the log and the side of the hill. Faraday was making a face as he clung to the side of the hill, fingers and shoes caked in mud. Goodnight laughed and held out a hand, pulling Faraday up next to him. Faraday flopped down onto the log as soon as he could and set to picking mud out from under his nails.

“Couldn't have taken the long way?” Sam asked, and Goodnight glanced over his shoulder. He smirked at Sam who nodded back, and Goodnight flicked his gaze to the two people trailing behind him. Vasquez looked mostly put together, but there was a bit of smoke coming off of him and he was scowling and muttering under his breath. Goodnight couldn't help but chuckle at the sight and he quickly set his gaze on Billy to avoid Vasquez's no doubt piercing glare.

“You alright, Billy?” Goodnight asked, standing up. He met Billy and patted him down, looking him over as he went. “Seem alright t' me,” Goodnight murmured.

Billy gave him a small smile and nodded. “I am fine, Goody,” he murmured, patting one of Goodnight's shoulders. When Goodnight didn't step away, Billy gave him another nod. “I am fine. I was not burned.”

“No,” snapped Vasquez. “Somehow _I_ was the only one who suffered from the Molotov Cocktails.” He huffed loudly and Goodnight turned his gaze away from Billy, focusing on the others. He gave Vasquez a better look over now that they were closer, but the man genuinely seemed fine aside from the back of his shirt being burned. Vasquez met Goodnight's gaze and bared his teeth in what Goodnight guessed was supposed to be a grin but didn't quite work as one. They both looked away from each other when Faraday spoke.

“What the fuck,” he snapped, “happened down there? Sam? You seemed ta know who threw the damn cocktails.” Faraday shuddered. “I hate them fuckin' things.”

“You and me both, _guero_ ,” Vasquez muttered, and Goodnight's lips twitched up in amusement when Faraday sent him a glare.

Sam stepped in front of Faraday and leveled both men with glares, effectively stopping them from devolving into an argument that Goodnight had quickly realized they were prone to. Faraday and Vasquez were similar enough that they didn't always fight, but Faraday had a mouth on him, and Vasquez had a temper. Somehow Sam always ended up as the mediator which amused Goodnight to no end, now being no exception despite the strangeness of their situation.

“I do know who it was,” Sam answered with a single slow nod. Goodnight raised his brows in question, and Faraday voiced that question.

“Then who? You didn't say we had a mysterious ally lurkin' the woods after us, Sam.” Faraday huffed like the petulant child he seemed to be at times, and Sam rolled his eyes.

“We do, and we don't,” Sam said, and that raised many more questions than it explained. “We came north for a reason, and I have a feeling we found that reason.”

“Or it found us,” Vasquez snapped.

Sam nodded, a smirk playing about his lips. “Or it found us,” he agreed, and then tensed as a twig nearby broke. In an instant, the five men on the hill were at the ready. Guns and knives (courtesy of Billy) were out and ready, all five facing the direction the crunch of twigs was coming from. It took a few seconds that seemed to tick by too slowly, but a man eventually crested the side of the hill. Goodnight's first impression of him was a shock of white, and he was startled to realize that this man had been the flash of white that had thrown that second Molotov Cocktail (and very probably the first) at the Deathclaw. “Jack Horne?” Sam questioned, holstering his pistol.

The man in front of them surveyed the five of them, taking a few minutes to answer. “That's me,” he said in a higher pitched voice than Goodnight would have expected from him. Faraday seemed to stifle a laugh and Goodnight sent him a warning glare, only looking back to Jack Horne when Faraday seemed sufficiently cowed. “What are you doing here?” Horne demanded, settling his gaze on Sam.

“The Enclave doesn't have such a good reputation anymore, does it, Mr. Horne?” Sam asked instead of directly answering Horne's question. “Worse since the Brotherhood is in town, am I right?” Horne glanced between each of them, his eyes wide. Goodnight frowned; he was surprised as well. Horne was ex-Enclave? By rights, he and Horne would have been at odds. Goodnight had been in D.C. ten years ago, and had experienced the battle with the Enclave first hand. The destruction the two factions had caused going toe to toe with one another had been horrifying, and Goodnight shuddered to remember it. From the looks of it, Horne shared his disgust at the past horrors of their two former allegiances.

In a surprisingly controlled voice, Horne said, “That's behind me now.” Goodnight felt a pang of sympathy for this man. Here comes five complete strangers, one of which brings up a traumatic past. If Goodnight hadn't trusted Sam as much as he did, he would have been much the same.

Sam, it seemed, either didn't care or didn't pick up on Horne's pain. (Goodnight was willing to bet it was the former. He wasn't a betting man by nature, but he knew a thing or two about Minuteman Sam Chisolm.) “I'm looking for men, Mr. Horne,” Sam stated. “We,” he gestured between himself and the four around him, “are going to fight a man with less than pure intentions.” Vasquez scoffed.

“That is putting it lightly,” he snapped, shaking his head. Vasquez holstered his gun and stepped up next to Sam, fixing Horne with a firm look. “We seek the death of a bastard, _amigo_. He hurts people, takes away their families. If this is not a cause you can fight for, _eres un cobarde_.” Vasquez spat on the ground and sneered, looking away when Horne only continued to observe them. Goodnight didn't speak a lick of Spanish, not even after the week and a half it took them to move from the Goodneighbor area to up near Lynn Woods, but the way Vasquez delivered those words... It was undoubtedly an insult.

“Well,” Sam said after a few moments. “He is right. There is a man whose death we seek in the name of justice. Just outside Diamond City, there's a small settlement called Rose Creek. If you change your mind, Mr. Horne...” Sam trailed off and gave Horne a meaningful nod which was only given a stare in return.

When Horne finally spoke, it was not to give them the answer they wanted. Instead, he said, “I'll take you down passed Saugus Ironworks, lead you around the Forged and their traps.”

Goodnight raised his eyebrows and shifted his grip on his gun. Horne snapped his gaze to Goodnight who only continued to raise his eyebrows. They stood, locked in a silent stare down until Sam spoke up with a tired laugh.

“All right,” Sam said. “Thank you, Mr. Horne. We won't ask for any more than that.”

“All right,” Horne repeated. He gave their group another sweeping look and gestured down the hill. “This way, then. It will take a few days to go around Saugus.”

Goodnight was the last one to holster his weapon, and he exchanged glances with Billy as they brought up the rear of the group. Horne was nothing like Goodnight had pictured, and hearing he was ex-Enclave only emphasized the image Goodnight had in his head. A part of him understood, though. The Enclave fought for a cause that, outwardly, seemed noble but inwardly had a much different agenda. That was something that hit a little too close to home for Goodnight. And yet, still...

“I thought he'd have... Motivation,” Goodnight whispered, and Billy shrugged.

“Some men are not noble, Goody,” Billy whispered back. “No matter the cause. If it is his nature, it won't change.”

A frown marred Goodnight's face, but he nodded anyway. “I suppose you are right, Billy. You usually are.” He slung his arm over Billy's shoulders and they leaned into each other for a few moments.

“I usually am,” Billy said with a wry smirk, and Goodnight chuckled in response. He playfully shoved Billy forward and Billy stumbled after the four in front of them, shaking his head as he regained his footing. Goodnight closed the distance between them and they fell into step, bringing up the rear of the small group lead by Jack Horne.

**Author's Note:**

> [here](http://fallout4map.com?location=436) is Goodneighbor, [here](http://fallout4map.com?location=24) is Lynn Woods, and [here](http://fallout4map.com/?location=166) is Saugus Ironworks if you wanted to know roughly where they have been travelling. oh and [here](http://fallout4map.com?location=507) is Diamond City! so we finally meet Horne! i always knew he was gonna be ex-Enclave, just 'cause it sort of seems to fit. and i want to explore the possible tension and resolve between Goody and Horne in the future (since, in Fallout 3, the Enclave and the BoS are opposing factions). there's so much i want to do with this au, honestly!!
> 
> Vasquez calls Horne a coward btw.
> 
> okay, please let me know how you liked this either in the comments, or come tell me about it on [tumblr](http://bcrebonecredence.tumblr.com/)!


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